Among The Wreckage
by purplepagoda
Summary: When Jim shows up on Castle's doorstep will it mean the end of Castle's relationship with Beckett. Can their relationship whether the storm, when a dark secret from Beckett's past comes to the surface?
1. Late Night Visitor

He's alone in his apartment, sitting at the island in his kitchen. He leans against the counter as a bottle of scotch calls his name. A knock on the door brings him back to reality. He crosses the room, stopping at the door. He takes a deep breath, but he doesn't check the peephole. He pulls the door open. He furrows his brow, upon seeing the figure standing in his doorway.

"What are you doing here?"

He holds out a manila folder to Rick.

Richard cocks an eyebrow, "What's this?"

"You asked my daughter to marry you."

"Yes. I thought that you already knew that."

"I did."

"Would you like to come in?"

Jim shakes his head, "No."

"What are you doing here? It's after ten. Kate isn't here."

"I know, I talked to her earlier. She told me that she was at her place."

"She said she needed a little time alone."

"Richard Castle, do not let her push you away."

"Why are you here?"

"My daughter loves you. She is going to marry you."

"This is true. You don't want me to marry her?"

"I want her to be happy. If you are what makes her happy I won't stand in her way."

"But you're here, obviously to talk to me, when she's not around. Why?"

"She will do her best to push you away."

"She already has."

"She will keep trying. She usually succeeds."

"She won't succeed. I'm not going anywhere."

"She doesn't like being vulnerable. She doesn't like for anyone to see the..."

Richard cuts him off, "The broken pieces of herself that she tries to hide. I have seen them all, and I'm not going anywhere."

"There is something that you need to know about my daughter before you marry her."

"And what's that?"

"It's all in that folder."

"What is?"

"Just read it."

"Is it about her mother's murder?"

Jim shakes his head, "It has absolutely nothing to do with her mother's murder."

"So what does it have to do with?"

"It is better if you read it for yourself."

"What is going on here?"

"There are things in this life that we try to forget. Even if we briefly succeed things always have a way of coming back to the surface. There are things that she hasn't told you."

"How do you know?"

"Because she does her best to forget," Jim explains.

"Meaning?"

"She will tell you that she can't remember, when you confront her about it."

"Maybe she can't," Castle suggests.

"I don't know whether she can't remember, or she chooses not to."

"What do you mean by chooses not to?"

"I can't say with certainty that she truly cannot remember, I can only say that the medical community deems it unlikely."

"I don't understand."

"Read the file, and you will."

"Why are you giving this to me all of a sudden?"

"It isn't all of a sudden. I should go," he turns to leave.

"Wait."

Jim walks away. Castle closes, and locks the door. He makes his way into the kitchen. He pours himself a drink, and carries it into his office, along with the folder. He enters the office, closing the door behind him. He situates himself in his chair, behind his desk. He turns on the lamp, and takes a sip of his scotch.

He removes the rubber band that is wrapped around the outside of the folder. He studies the folder closely, before he opens it. The edges are worn, as if it has been handled many times. There is a stain on the front that appears to be from a coffee cup. He flips open the flap of the folder. He begins reading, in silence.

By the time he has gotten to the other flap of the folder he's polished of two drinks, and an accident report. He's preparing to re-read the material before him when his phone begins to vibrate. He looks to his right. The phone vibrates against the desk. He stares at the screen with a picture of her on it. He swallows hard, and reaches for the phone.

"Hello?" he answers.

"Are you in bed?"

"No, I'm reading."

"I'll be over in the morning. I just wanted to let you know."

"Okay."

"You sound upset, are you okay?"

"It was just something that I read. Get some rest, okay?"

"I'll see you tomorrow."

"We'll talk then. Goodnight, Kate."

"Night."

"Love you. See you in the morning."

"Love you, bye," she hangs up the phone.

He places his phone on the desk, and pushes the phone aside.

* * *

She uses her key to get into the apartment. She opens the door, and finds that it's suspiciously quiet. She closes the door, and tosses her bag on the couch. The coffee pot has yet to be used, despite the fact that it is nearly eight o'clock. She makes a beeline for the bedroom. She pushes the door open, and finds that it's empty.

"Castle?" she calls out as she makes her way towards the bathroom. She finds that the bathroom is empty as well. She leaves the room, and walks towards his office. She stops outside the closed door. She reaches for the handle, turning it quietly. She pushes the door open. She finds him sitting behind his desk, with the side of his face lying on top of a folder.

"Castle?"

He opens his eyes, and looks at her. She shoots him a questioning look.

"Late night?"

He nods as he grabs the file off his desk, and shoves it into a drawer.


	2. Six Years Later

"Let me make you some coffee," he responds to her as he rises from the seat behind his desk. She says nothing as he leaves the room. She follows him into the kitchen. He doesn't offer his affection as he starts the coffeemaker. He waits in silence for the coffee to brew. She leans against the counter of the island, just watching him. She can't help but feel the tension.

"Rick, are you okay?"

He doesn't turn to look at her. His eyes remain fixed on the coffee pot in front of him. "Fine."

"That is what you were wearing yesterday when I saw you last."

"I was working late," he offers, still not willing to meet her glance.

"Why don't you tell me what's eating at you, instead of playing this game?"

"Have a seat," he answers.

She complies with his request. She takes a seat on a bar stool, nearby. She allows moments to pass while the coffee brews. When the coffee is finished he retrieves two mugs from the cabinet. He pours them each a cup. She watches him, closely as he approaches her. He places one of the cups in front of her. He takes a sip from his own cup. She grips the cup, and has a drink. Once she's swallowed she turns to him.

"What is bothering you?"

"I want you to tell me about yesterday."

She furrows her brow, and stares at him in confusion, "There is nothing to tell. I just needed some time alone."

"Time alone? You're sure that's it?" He questions.

"Are you accusing me of something?" She cocks an eyebrow.

"No, I am just curious what you did all day."

"Why do you want to know about yesterday, so badly?"

"I didn't really mean yesterday," he admits.

"For once in your life why don't you just tell me what you really mean?"

He locks eyes with her. He stares at her face for a few moments. He places his hand against her face, cradling her jaw. He wears a pained expression.

She stares at him with hazel eyes. She can see that he's conflicted. She can see that this is one of those rare occasions where he struggles to find the right words. She reaches up, and removes his hand from her face. She holds her hand in his, squeezing it.

"What did you mean?" She queries.

"Six years ago, yesterday," he clarifies.

She doesn't say anything. She breaks eye contact, and looks at the floor. Her heart skips a beat as she tries to come up with a response.

"Kate," he says softly, "I wasn't working on a novel. I was reading an accident report. I..."

She cuts him off, "Where did you get it?"

"Your dad came by last night. He said there was something I needed to know about you, before we got married. He told me that I needed to read what was in the report."

"It wasn't his place," she warns him, as her face begins to grow red.

"Maybe not, but I think we should talk about it."

"I don't want to talk about it. If I wanted to talk about it I would have mentioned it," the vein in her forehead begins to pulsate.

"He said that you don't remember."

"I don't," she slides off the bar stool.

"Where are you going? Can we discuss this?" he takes off, after her.

"I don't want to talk about this. Okay?" she grabs her bag off the couch, and heads for the door.

He plants himself in front of the door. "No, it's not okay. We need to talk about this. You can't runaway every time you don't want to talk about something."

She takes a deep breath, and purses her lips. "There is nothing to talk about. It was six years ago."

"Please," he begs.

"Six years ago I was in a car accident. There is nothing to tell, because I don't remember. I don't remember the circumstances leading up to the accident. I don't remember the accident. All I can remember is waking up in the hospital."

"Kate..." he begins.

Her nostrils flare as she steps towards him, "Dammit Castle, let me go!"

He steps aside, and lets her through the door. He grabs his jacket, and his keys, but not to follow her. He pulls out his phone, and dials her father.

She reaches the sidewalk, and decides not to get into her car. She chooses to walk. She walks for blocks, until she reaches a park. She feels her blood pressure rising as the anger she feels escalates. She takes a seat on the bench, and tries to calm herself before she spirals into a panic attack. She takes several deep breaths, and tries to block it all out.

* * *

_She lies in a bed, with her eyes closed. She slowly begins to regain consciousness. She doesn't open her eyes, immediately. She listens to the noises around her. She hears beeping nearby. Several feet, or yards away she can hear footsteps, and a telephone ringing. Her head throbs as she tries to figure out where she is. Her heart races, as she realizes she has no idea where she is. _

_ She slowly opens her eyes, and begins to observe the scene around her. She looks to her right, and finds that she's tethered to an IV pole. She can see someone out of the corner of her eye. She tries to turn her head, but she can't. She hears voices, and beeping, and it seems like utter chaos to her. _

_ Her chest aches, and her head throbs. Her throat, and her nose burn. She tries to take a deep breath, but when she inhales she feels a sharp, shooting pain. She feels someone touching her. Suddenly she's lifted from a cold hard surface onto a slightly softer, slightly less cold surface. A woman dressed in blue scrubs, with sandy colored hair that is pulled behind her in a French braid comes into view._

_"Can you hear me?" she asks._

_Kate suddenly realizes that she can barely hear the woman's voice._

_"My name is Teresa, I am a nurse."_

_"Why am I here?"_

_"Ma'am you were in a car accident, you're in the hospital. Can you tell me your name?"_

_"Katherine Beckett."_

_"Miss Beckett we're going to take good care of you," the nurse vows._

_"Kate," she corrects her, wincing in pain as she inhales._

_"Kate can you tell me where you hurt?"_

_"Everywhere," she replies, in a raspy voice._

_"We will get you some medication. Kate is there anyone that we can call?"_

_"My dad's number is in my phone."_

_"Okay."_


	3. Mistakes

Richard slides into a booth, at a table of a diner, near his apartment. He looks up at the man sitting across the table from him, and smiles.

"Thanks for meeting me here."

"I take it that you had a chance to read the report?" Jim questions.

"Yeah, I did."

"Did you talk to Katie?"

"Talk? I wouldn't call it that. She simply stated she was in an accident that she couldn't remember."

"Do you believe her?"

"I want to."

Jim shakes his head, "That isn't what I asked."

"No. If it happened six days ago I might believe her."

"But it was six years ago."

"Why hasn't she ever mentioned it?"

"She never does," Jim reveals.

"She had to deal with it at some point, didn't she?"

"She pretended like nothing ever happened. Maybe I am partially responsible for that. I went to her job, and I asked them to handle it delicately. Her captain told me he understood, and he wouldn't bring it up unless she did."

"She never did," he realizes.

"I don't think so. I had a role in how things were handled when she was released from the hospital. I made some mistakes."

"How can I help her?"

"You find away to push her boundaries without pushing her over the edge. I never was any good at that. If anyone can help her it's you."

"What if she really doesn't remember? She will hate me for being the person that opens that can of worms."

"Do you really believe that she can't remember?"

"No. Her reaction told me that she did."

"What is your plan?" Jim quizzes.

"I have to be honest. I don't have one. I don't know how to handle this situation. I will have to handle it delicately. I don't want to push her until she breaks."

Jim takes a sip of his coffee, "Maybe it's what she needs."

"I read the report at least half a dozen times, the accident was not her fault."

"No."

"Does she know that?"

"I don't know. She refuses to talk about it to me."

"Has she read the accident report? Has she seen the photos?"

"I don't know. I was the one who handled all of the insurance claims. She didn't want to deal with it, and I just wanted to protect her."

"I understand wanting to protect your daughter. I would do anything to protect mine."

"I think that I made the situation worse. I gave her an out. I handled things so that she didn't have to. I don't think that she ever actually dealt with any of it."

"Montgomery knew, what about..."

Jim cuts him off, "Everyone knew. Her partner at the time, he knew. Everyone knew, and no one said anything. I think that they were afraid to say anything. They wanted to protect her just as much as I did. We all made the mistake of allowing her to live in denial."

"Do you think that she knows?"

"Which part?" Jim cocks an eyebrow.

"That she wasn't the only person in the car?"

"I doubt that there is anything she doesn't know about that night."

"Knowing her she's probably replayed that night in her head a million times."

* * *

She winds up at the gym. She takes her anger, and frustration out on a punching bag. She doesn't stop until she's drenched in sweat, and too tired to punch anymore. Even as her energy wanes her anger doesn't. She tightens the laces of her sneakers, and leaves the gym. She breathes in fresh air. She shoves ear buds into her ears. Her ipod is wrapped around her arm, secured in a band. As her feet pound against the sidewalk she tries to forget. She tries to tune out the rest of the world. She tries to stay focused on what's ahead. Instead she finds herself thinking of what's behind her.

* * *

_She sits on a wooden step, outside of a house in the suburbs. She keeps her eyes focused on the street ahead of her. She wears a pair of black sneakers, a pair of jeans, and an oversized grey long sleeved t-shirt. She sits on the second step, with her feet pressed against the bottom step. She hears footsteps coming near her. She looks up, and finds a familiar face approaching. _

_ He's tall, and muscularly built. He's got dark hair that is cropped close to his head. His bright green eyes land on her. She looks away from him, as he moves towards her. He takes a seat next to her, on the step. He wears a jeans, sneakers, and a navy blue t-shirt that says NYPD across the front. The sleeves of the t-shirt cling to his muscles. His olive colored hand lands on her leg. He clears his throat._

_"You can't run away every single time something doesn't go your way, Kate."_

_"Tony I can't do this."_

_"Do what?"_

_"I can't pretend like I want to be here, when I don't. I didn't want to come here. You keep pushing me into doing things that I don't want to do. You try to make me feel guilty, but it isn't going to work. I am done feeling guilty."_

_"Kate come on. We had to do this eventually. You have put this off for over a year. You had to meet my parents eventually."_

_"You have this sick, twisted idea that all of this is going to work out, and we're going to live happily ever after. I thought that I made it perfectly clear that we aren't going to work out. I can't be with someone who is constantly trying to change me. I don't need anyone to control me."_

_"Kate that isn't what I am trying to do."_

_"You forced me to drive all the way out here to see your parents. I don't want to be here. I want to be at home."_

_"Fine, we can leave first thing in the morning."_

_She shakes her head. Her face turns red, and the vein in her head pulsates, "No. I am going home tonight."_

_"Okay, we'll go tonight."_

_"You don't have to come with me. I am leaving with, or without you," she rises from her seat. She heads onto the porch. She speeds towards the front door._

_"Kate, wait."_

_She spins around, and looks at him, "No. I am going to go get everything out of there, and pack the car."_

_"I will help you."_

_"I don't know that I want you to."_


	4. Inferno

When he enters his apartment he finds her sitting on his couch, waiting for him. She stares at him in silence as he approaches her. He doesn't takes his eyes off of her as he takes a seat next to her. His hand grazes the upper half of her leg. He allows his hand to rest there. She sits next to him gazing upon him with her big hazel eyes. He clears his throat. She remains perfectly still, saying nothing.

He breaks the unbearable silence, "Kate," he says softly, "we don't have to talk about this now, but we do have to talk about it some point, preferably in the near future."

She shifts her glance to the coffee table that sits in front of him. His eyes follow her line of sight. On a coaster that sits atop the table is a glass. A glass that is approximately a quarter of the way full of alcohol. There are two ice cubes inside that have already begun to turn into puddles of water inside the glass.

He can tell by the perspiration on the outside of the glass that it has been sitting there for a significant period of time. It is obvious to him that she has been carefully contemplating this moment for a considerable while. She says nothing as she reaches for the glass. She doesn't hesitate as her fingers wrap around the glass. In one swift motion the glass floats from the table to her mouth. She swallows the liquid from the glass in one attempt.

She returns the empty glass to it's previous spot on the table. She turns, and looks at him. She swallows hard. He peers into her hazel eyes hoping that she reveals something to him. He waits silently, praying that she will trust him enough to open up to him. Despite the awkward, clumsy silence he chooses to say nothing. Even though silence goes against everything he stands for; against every fiber of his being, he knows that it is a necessary evil. He waits, as the second hand of his watch ticks once, and again, repeatedly, for her to say something.

She tips her head upwards, towards him. She clears her throat, and makes eye contact. She exhales, and decides that she can wait no longer.

"I have never talked to anyone about this," she begins, admittedly.

"I would be honored if I was the first," he forces a gracious, but weak smile.

"Rick, I hate dwelling on things like this," she adds.

"From what I heard you never dwelled on it, you didn't even deal with it," he responds, in an accusatory tone. He instantly regrets this move, realizing it could cause her to retreat.

"Six years ago," she begins, "Six years ago, yesterday, I was coming home from a weekend in New Jersey."

"New Jersey?"

"It was not the destination of my choice. I was not responsible for planning the trip."

"You remember that?"

She briefly breaks eye contact, "I remember a lot of things."

"So what happened?"

"My entire world changed," she admits.

"Tell me," he begs, in a hushed tone.

"My entire world changed, and no one wanted to talk about it."

"They thought you didn't remember," he defends them.

"Initially, after it happened I couldn't remember anything. I didn't remember the accident. I didn't remember the trip. I didn't remember anyone else being in the car."

"But you weren't alone," he states matter-of-factly.

"No, I wasn't. Every single day," she clenches her jaw in an attempt to keep the tears, that are welled up in her eyes, from falling, "I wish that I had been alone in that car."

"I know."

"With every breath I take I wish that I had been alone that day."

"You probably would have died," he suggests.

She blinks away tears as the vein in her forehead begins to pulsate, "Maybe it would have been better that way."

"You don't believe that," he argues.

The tears begin to fall, "Sometimes, I do."

"What happened that night?"

She shrugs, "It was foggy, and it was dark. When I pulled out from the stop sign I couldn't see the truck stopped in the middle of the road. By the time that I did it was too late. I couldn't do anything to stop it. I have replayed that scene in my head at least a thousand times. It doesn't always end the same, sometimes it is worse. Sometimes no one survives. Sometimes sitting alone, in my apartment, thinking about what happened, I feel like I didn't either."

"How long were you unconscious for?"

"I have no idea. It was late, and it wasn't busy. The driver of the pick up was knocked unconscious too."

"No one knows how long you were there?"

"The highway patrol estimated that we were sitting in that intersection for at least twenty, or more minutes before anyone came upon the accident."

"What happened to the guy you were with?"

She cocks an eyebrow, "You read the report."

"I want to hear it from you," he answers.

"He was injured pretty badly," she responds.

"Several broken vertebrae, right?"

"And some broken ribs."

"He was a fellow NYPD officer?"

"Yeah."

"Your significant other?"

"I would not refer to him as that."

"Your boyfriend?"

"No," she shakes her head.

"Then what would you call him?"

She shrugs, "A fling."

"You would have to be pretty serious with someone to drive to the middle of nowhere, New Jersey to meet his parents."

"It wasn't serious, it was complicated," she explains.

* * *

_He takes a deep breath, and instantly the pain hits him. He opens his eyes, and finds himself in chaos. The airbags have deployed, and there is blood on him. He looks over to the driver's seat. Kate is strapped into her seat, bleeding, and unconscious. He tries to take a deep breath. The pain nearly overwhelms him. He can smell gasoline. Instinctively he reaches for his seat belt. The belt releases, and he manages to get his door open. He walks around the front of the vehicle, past the vehicle that they have t-boned. He makes his way around the other vehicle, and finally reaches her door. He tugs at the door, until it comes open. He ducks into the vehicle, and attempts to remove her belt. It won't unbuckle. He reaches for the knife in his pocket, and cuts the belt off of her. There is glass everywhere. The smell of gasoline grows stronger with each passing second. He cradles her body in his arms as he lifts her from the car. _

_ Every single step is painful as he turns around, and heads for a grassy area near the guardrail. He gently lays her in the wet grass, off to the side of the road. He whispers her name, "Kate?" She briefly opens her eyes, and looks at him. Satisfied that she's alive he turns to face the car. He slowly begins to move towards it. Before he can reach it the car ignites. _


	5. Knowing

"How did he carry you from the car with broken vertebrae, and broken ribs?"

"Adrenaline, I guess."

"How long was he in the hospital?"

"Weeks. He was leaned back in his seat, trying to sleep on the way home. It is probably what saved him. He only broke thoracic vertebrae."

"From what I read you're lucky to be alive."

"I wouldn't call it luck."

"Why wouldn't you tell me this?"

"I told you it was complicated."

"The guy you were with, what was his name?"

"Tony."

"You said the two of you weren't serious."

"We weren't."

"How long were you together?"

"We weren't even together when the accident happened. It was never more than a fling. I was young, and stupid."

"What was his excuse?"

"We had been..." she pauses to come up with the proper term.

"Bedfellows?" He offers.

She nods, "For a few weeks. One morning I was in his bed, and I was trying to figure out how to slip out without waking him up. I realized that he was awake. He looked over at me, and he said, "You're the kind of girl that I want to marry,"."

"And you fled because you are, or at least you were totally afraid of commitment."

"After three weeks? I am definitely not the kind of girl who wants to commit after three weeks of... something that I would not even regard as an actual relationship."

"So why were you with him that night?"

"That is a topic for another time," she insists.

"Kate," his blue eyes plead with her.

She wipes the tears from her face, "I can't, not now."

"Okay," he relents, as she vacates her seat on the couch, and retreats to the bedroom.

* * *

She sits in her car, with the passenger's side window rolled down. She holds a pair of binoculars and watches a house across the street from her. It's her day off, and she's sitting on a street in Queens. She watches as her target exits the house. He heads down the sidewalk with a pre-schooler on his shoulders. A woman exits the house carrying a diaper bag, and a toddler. She joins him in the driveway. He secures the pre-schooler in a booster seat in the backseat of the white minivan.

The woman proceeds to do the same with the child that she is carrying. When the sliding doors close the woman walks around the front of the van. He opens the passenger's side door for her. She climbs inside. He closes the door for her, and glances in the mirror.

Kate rolls up her window, and puts her binoculars in the passenger's seat. She reaches for her sunglasses which rest on the dash, in front of her. She turns on the ignition for a speedy get away. The sound of someone knocking on her passenger's side window nearly makes her jump out of her skin. She looks out the window at the figure standing next to her car.

A pair of bright green eyes peer in the window at her. The tall, dark, handsome, NYPD officer waits patiently for her to roll down the window. Finally she rolls down the automatic window. He shoots her a questioning look.

"Kate, what are you doing here?"

"I... I shouldn't have come."

"I haven't seen you in..." he tries to recall how long it has been.

"Six years," she supplies.

"I woke up in a hospital six years ago, without you. I never saw you after that night. What are you doing here?"

"I started thinking about you, and I..."

He smiles at her, "You used your detective skills, and ended up here?"

"Yeah, I just needed to know," she nods.

"Why? Why now?"

"Six years and..."

He takes the words right out of her mouth, "And two days."

"Yeah," she nods, "I guess I just wanted to make sure that you were... okay."

"I am fine."

"Married?"

"Five years," he reveals, "I found a girl who didn't scare easily."

"A cop?"

"A nurse."

"Your nurse?"

"No."

"You're happy?"

He smiles, "Yeah. I have what I always wanted. I have an incredible wife, and two amazing little girls."

"I am sorry."

"For what?"

"That I didn't stick around. I am sorry that I didn't stay long enough to see if you were even alive."

"Kate, I understand. You have nothing to be sorry for. I am the one who is sorry."

"I don't want your apology, it doesn't change anything."

"I know, but I am sorry."

"I know," she chokes back tears.

"I should get going," he tells her.

"Of course," she agrees.

He turns to leave. She finds herself staring at his backside. Within an instant she is chiding herself, reminding herself that she is taken. He pivots, and smiles at her. His bright green eyes fall upon her face.

"There is something you should know," he tells her.

"What's that?"

"My four year old, her name is Katherine."

"You named her after me?"

"Yeah," he nods, grinning from ear to ear.

"Why?" she cocks an eyebrow.

"It seemed like the right thing to do."

He walks away from the car. She watches him as he backs out of his driveway on the suburban street. She watches the van as it drives away. She feels her heart skip a beat as she thinks about her past with him. She takes the key from the ignition, and locks the doors. She tries to fight it, but the tears begin to fall. She leans forward, gripping the steering wheel. Her head presses against the steering wheel as she sobs, uncontrollably.

She has spent the past six years trying to forget that night. Six years of hard work, and total denial completely obliterated by a few pieces of paper, and an inquisitive mind. She wonders how long it will be before he forces her to reveal everything.


	6. You And Tequila

She sits on the couch, frozen, as she listens to her watch ticks. She wants so badly to forget, but the memories burn. The guilt eats at her, as she reaches for another drink. She feels herself being sucked right back into that dark, black hole once again. The past tugs at her once again. She places her drink on the surface of the coffee table. It's late, and she's slipped out of his bed to be alone. She wonders how long it will be before he figures out the truth. The truth of the matter is that he probably already knows. She can only wait for him to confront her with the truth. Part of her prays that she never has to have that conversation with him.

She blinks away tears as she sits on the couch wearing his shirt. The apartment is eerily quiet. She finds herself surrounded by a silent room full of the sound of her own thoughts. She looks at the bottle of tequila sitting on the coffee table. She doesn't even like tequila. She is reminded of the last time she drank tequila.

* * *

_She is sitting at the bar, on a stool. She looks over, and finds an NYPD detective approaching her. He's tall, dark, and handsome. He is well muscled, and has bright green eyes. He smiles widely at her. He is just what she needs to take her mind off the hellacious case she's been working. _

_"Beckett," he smiles._

_"Mahlon. I haven't seen you in a while how is the one six treating you?"_

_"Took some adjusting to, but I like it."  
_

_"So where are your boys?"_

_He points to a booth nearby, "They started without me. They are already quite intoxicated."_

_"You'll just have to catch up," she smiles at him._

_"Can I buy you a drink?"_

_"Sure."_

_"Do you drink tequila?"_

_"Not since college," she admits._

_"The fact that you're here tells me that you've had a rough day."_

_"It's just the case I'm working," she reveals._

_"So let's have a few drinks, and take your mind off of it?"_

_ The following morning she wakes up with a splitting headache. She opens her eyes, and finds herself pinned under someone's arm. She rolls over to face him. She finds herself tangled in sheets with her fellow detective. She slides out from underneath his arm, and takes the sheet with her. She collects her clothes, and heads for the door._

* * *

"Are you coming back to bed?" he repeats, standing at the end of the couch.

She looks up at him, "How long have you been standing there?"

"Long enough to realize that you were somewhere else," Castle admits.

"I think I'm just going to sleep out here."

"Just remember that others have slept on this couch before you, and some not as meticulous about their hygiene."

"I'll be fine."

"How's the tequila?"

"Fine."

"Just fine? Kate you don't drink tequila. What's going on?"

"Castle I don't want to talk about it."

"Now, or ever?"

"I don't want to talk about it ever, really, and I refuse to talk about it now."

"When are we going to talk about it at some point?"

She shrugs, "I don't know."

"In that case I am going to go back to bed."

"Night."

He takes a few steps towards her. He kisses her forehead, "I love you."

She watches him walk away. He closes the bedroom door behind himself. She looks down at her watch. It has stopped. She sighs, and collects the empty glass, and bottle of alcohol off the table. She vacates her seat, and heads into the kitchen.

When she reaches the kitchen she puts the glass in the sink. She puts the bottle back on the shelf where it belongs. She takes off her watch, and places it on the counter. She pulls open a drawer full of miscellaneous items. Inside she locates a small screw driver, and a package of batteries. She returns to the counter, and removes the back off her watch. She pops the battery out, and replaces it.

She stops cold as she looks at the inside of the cover of the back of the watch. Inside the cold silver metal there is a small image. She stares at the picture in silence, for several seconds, unmoving. Her breath hitches, and she proceeds to put the screws through the back of the watch. She returns the screwdriver to the drawer, and the watch to her wrist. She closes the drawer, and leans against the counter. She can't hold off the tears any longer. They begin to fall like rain.

* * *

_She's on her way home after work. It's been a long day due to her grueling case, and partly due to the fact that she started the day by waking up in a stranger's bed with a hangover. She pulls into a parking space on the street. She looks out her passenger's side window towards the entrance of the bar across the street. She wonders if he's inside. Her nightmare of a case has yet to draw to a close, and she just wants a drink. _

_ The last thing that she wants is an awkward conversation. A conversation where she explains to him that she was only interested in one thing, and it wasn't his brains. She rolls her eyes, and groans as the keys hang in the ignition. Her phone begins to ring. She looks at the number on her screen. It's not a number she recognizes. Realizing that it could be about her case she answers._

_"Beckett."_

_"Kate this is Tony."_

_It takes her a moment to place him, "Detective Mahlon?"_

_"Are you still at work?"_

_"I hope that I didn't give you the wrong impression last night, but I am not looking for a relationship. You are a nice guy, but..."_

_He cuts her off, "Beckett I am sitting in the bar, at a window. I can see your car parked outside. I was just going to buy you a drink. I'm not looking for a relationship. I am just looking for a drinking buddy."_

_"What about your other buddies?"_

_"They are the ones who told me to call you."_

_"What do you mean?"_

_"They heard that you could drink a sailor under the table. There are some wagers on the table. They don't think that you are capable of out drinking any of them. What do you say you split the pot with me when you prove them wrong?"_

_"I don't know about that."_

_"I'll pay for your drinks. Come on, what better way to forget a shitty day?"_


	7. Erasure

_ Weeks later she wakes up in Detective Anthony Mahlon's bed, again. She finds his arm draped around her. She rolls over, hoping to sneak out before he wakes up. She seems to be making a habit of waking up in his bed. She refuses to admit to him that it's more than the job that's getting to her. She refuses to share much of anything with him, other than his bed. In fact they have never even been to her place. _

_ She looks over him, feeling a momentary pang of guilt for leaving him the same way every single morning, never even sticking around for a cup of coffee. His bright green eyes stare back at her. The fact that he's awake startles her. She feels a sense of panic wash over her. _

_"I should probably get going," she tells him, hoping for an easy out._

_"Do you have to work this morning? It's Saturday, you know."_

_"Um... not unless I get called in."_

_"So then you don't have to rush off."_

_"I have a lot to do. Tony I thought that we agreed that neither of us were looking for a relationship. I'm not looking to spend the day together. I am not looking for a boyfriend."_

_"So I can't even make you a cup of coffee? I mean you like coffee, right?"_

_"That isn't necessary."_

_"I could make you breakfast. I make incredible omelets."_

_"I am not hungry," she fibs._

_"Okay."_

_"When was the last time you got to hang out with your buddies? I mean how long has it been since you went to the bar?"_

_"Weeks. I can hang out with them anytime. Right now I want to hang out with you."_

_"I don't know why."_

_"Because you're the kind of girl I want to marry," he says out of nowhere._

_She feels her heart skip a beat, "Excuse me?!"_

_"You're the type of girl I could take home to meet my parents," he explains._

_"I am the type of girl that you picked up at a bar. I went home with you the first night that we spent any time together off the clock. How does that make me the type of girl that you can take home to your parents?"_

_"I never thought I was going to actually succeed in getting you into bed."_

_"But you did."_

_"It was obvious to me that you were going through something..."_

_She cuts him off, "And you're telling me that you took advantage of that?"_

_"That isn't what I'm saying. I have worked with you on a few cases. You are a great cop, and good looking too. I didn't think that you would ever give me the time of day."_

_"From what I have heard you have had plenty of conquests."_

_"Is that what you really think of me? You think that you were just a notch in my bed post? Kate that was never my intention. I wanted more than that."_

_"And I told you I didn't want a relationship."_

_"I hoped that you would change your mind."_

_"What did you think was going to happen?"_

_"That one morning you would wake up next to me, and your first instinct wouldn't be to run. I guess that I thought, somehow, I could convince you to stay."_

_"Telling me that I'm the kind of girl you want to marry wasn't the way to do it."_

_She slides out from under his arm, and exits the bed. She heads for the bedroom door. _

* * *

_It's been three days since the accident. She still can't remember what's happened. She enters her apartment, and her father follows her in. She places her keys on the kitchen counter, and flips on the light._

_"You want me to stay?"_

_"No. I am tired. I just want to get to bed."_

_"Okay," he agrees._

_"I want to go back to work on Monday, so I should get some rest."_

_"Are you sure that is a good idea? Kate you're pretty banged up. You have lacerations, and stitches. You have a concussion, and a fractured rib. I don't think that you're ready to go back to work yet."_

_"I can't sit in this apartment all day, every day. I am fine. Please, just go."_

_"If you need anything, you'll call?"_

_"Of course."_

_He kisses her forehead, and leaves the apartment. She locks the door behind him. She makes her way into towards the stairs. As she slowly, and carefully makes her way up the stairs, she looks at the walls. She can't help but feel as if something is missing. She ignores the feeling at the pit of her stomach. _

_ She takes a shower, and heads to her bed. She sits on the edge of the bed with her lamp on. She looks at her watch. It lies on the nightstand. She stares at the unmoving hands. She reaches into the drawer of her nightstand, and pulls out a screw driver. She removes the back. She stares at the picture adhered to the inside. Everything comes flooding back to her at once. It's almost more than she can take. _

_ She buries her head in her hands, and the tears fall freely. After what seems like an hour she finally composes herself enough to leave her bed. She studies the room carefully. There are no pictures of anyone on the wall. She searches the drawers. There isn't a single article of clothing that belongs to anyone, but her. There is no trace of anyone, but her. It is as if the previous months never happened. It's as if it was all a dream. She manages to make it to the end of her bed as her mind travels to the smell of gasoline, and image of a burning car. _

* * *

When she wakes up on the couch the next morning the apartment is still eerily quiet. She finds Castle sitting on the arm of the couch, near her head just looking at her.

"Why is it so quiet?"

"We're the only two people here."

"Oh."

"Which as we both know is a rarity. My question to you is how would you like to spend this rare, and most likely short lived moment together?"

She shifts into a sitting position. She tosses the blanket that is covering her onto the back of the couch. She searches his dark blue eyes.

"We need to talk."

"Okay," he agrees.

"Most of the things that I am going to say, are going to be things that you don't like."

"That's okay."

"And some of them you probably won't understand."

"So, make me understand."

"I don't know if I can."

"Why not?"

"Because I don't understand them myself."

"That's okay," he tells her, reassuringly.


	8. A Lifetime To Forget

"The first few days after the accident I really couldn't remember anything. There were months that I couldn't recall," she begins.

"And after?"

"I got home, and everything started coming back to me. It was a nightmare all over again."

"I can imagine."

"When I went back to work no one talked about it. Everyone acted as if they were afraid to say anything. Some of them couldn't even look me in the eye."

"They were trying to protect you," he suggests.

"My whole life was turned upside down, and everyone around me pretended like nothing happened. I realized that was out of character for most of them."

"And?"

"I think my dad asked them not to say anything. He thought that he was helping. He thought he was protecting me. He did what he thought he should," she explains.

"But?"

"When I got home I had the overwhelming sense that something was missing. I felt like someone was missing. When I realized what was missing, I couldn't understand. It was as if every trace of anyone else being in my apartment had been erased. There were no pictures of anyone on the wall. There wasn't a single article of clothing that belonged to anyone, but me. At the time I couldn't understand why. I guess maybe everyone thought it wouldn't hurt as much if I never remembered."

"But you did?"

"I was devastated. The only person that I wanted to see, in the entire world... was gone."

"Kate why did you go to New Jersey in the first place?"

"I felt obligated."

"You said that you weren't that serious with Tony."

"I wasn't."

"You said it was just a fling."

"It was."

"So why did you go to his parent's house?"

"He asked me to."

"Were you even with him at the time?"

"No."

"But he wanted you to be?"

"He always wanted that."

"But he didn't die," Castle recalls.

"No."

"So, what happened? After the accident the thought of being near you was too much to bear? I don't understand. If you weren't with him, if he was just a fling, then why did you have his stuff at your place?"

"It wasn't his stuff. I wasn't talking about him."

"I guess that I just assumed that you were."

"Rick, I wasn't in love with him."

"And yet you went to his parent's house?"

"It was complicated."

"So whose stuff was missing from your apartment?"

"Not his."

"Then whose stuff was it?"

"You didn't read the entire report?"

"I read what wasn't redacted," he explains.

"None of it should have been redacted. None of it was classified. It was all public record."

"Then your father must have given me a redacted copy."

"So you really don't know?"

"Know what?"

* * *

_She stands outside of his apartment door, in the hallway of his building on a Saturday morning. She looks at her watch, and wonders if he's even up, since it's not even eight o'clock yet. She ignores the desire to run, instead she takes a deep breath, and knocks on his door. She is about to turn, and walk away when the door opens. _

_ He stands in the doorway wearing a pair of athletic shorts. He smiles at her. His eyes light up when he sees her. _

_"Kate, what are you doing here? I haven't seen you in three weeks."_

_"I know."_

_"You wanna come in?"_

_"Yeah," she nods._

_He steps aside, and allows her to enter the apartment. He closes the door behind her._

_"What brings you by?"_

_"I wanted to talk to you."_

_"I haven't seen you since you freaked out three weeks ago."_

_"I want to apologize. I am sorry that I freaked out. You have to understand..."_

_He cuts her off, "I came on too strong. I understand that. I am sorry. I didn't mean to scare you off."_

_"I know that."_

_"After that morning when I didn't hear from you again I just assumed that you didn't want to see me again, and rightfully so."_

_"I didn't."_

_"So what are you doing here?"_

_"I think that you're a nice guy," she begins._

_"You already gave me this speech. You think I'm a nice guy, but you don't want to be with me. You don't have any desire to spend the rest of your life with me."_

_"All of that is completely true."_

_"So what are you doing here?"_

_"I wanted to talk to you."_

_"So talk."_

_"I need to tell you something."_

_"Is this about a case? If you need help with a case all you have to do is ask. You know that we make a pretty good team."_

_She shakes her head, "No, it's not about a case."_

_"Okay, so then what is it about?"_

_"Something else."_

_"Can I get a little more of an explanation than that?"_

_"Yeah," she nods._


	9. Unforgivable

_ It's been six weeks since her first night with the charming, and handsome Detective Anthony Mahlon. She sits at her kitchen table, alone, in silence. She stares at a box of cereal, but she has no desire to eat it. She looks down at the object sitting on the table next to her, the one responsible for completely ruining her appetite._

* * *

"Kate I don't understand what you're trying to tell me. You didn't finish telling me what happened when you showed up at the detective's apartment, before you jumped to the next thing."

"It wasn't the next thing. It was what happened before."

"Can we go back to what it is that you wanted to tell what's his face?"

"Okay," she takes a deep breath.

He touches her hand. He presses his warm lips against the temple of her forehead.

"If this is too much we can stop. If you're not ready to talk about the accident I will understand."

She looks at him, questioningly, "Rick you are the most impatient human being I know."

"I am, but you are more important than my burning desire to know how this story ended up."

"You already know how it ended up."

"I do?"

"I end up here, with you."

"I am curious how we got here."

"You know how _we_ got here."

He nods, "I am more interested in how you got here," he admits.

* * *

_He looks at the female detective standing in front of him. He can see the anxiety, and uncertainty on her face. He takes a step closer to her, and changes to a softer tone._

_"Kate, whatever it is you can tell me."_

_"I just don't know how," she admits._

_"Whatever it is, I can handle it. So just be straight with me."_

_"Okay," she nods in agreement._

_"What is it that you wanted to tell me?"_

_"I," she exhales, "I am pregnant."_

_"Oh."_

_"It..."_

_He cuts her off, "I get it, it's mine."_

_"Yeah," she nods in confirmation._

_He points towards the living room, "Do you want to have a seat?"_

_"Okay."_

* * *

"So you went to his parents house that weekend to tell them that you were pregnant?"

"What?"

"Why would you go there to tell them? You weren't together. You weren't that far along. I don't understand."

"We didn't go the weekend that I told him I was pregnant."

"So you waited a while, until you figured out what you wanted to do?"

"We waited quite a while."

"And after the accident..." he trails off.

She swallows hard. She tries to keep the tears from falling, but it proves to be futile. The warm wet drops fall from her eyes, and trail down her cheeks. "All of it was an accident. It was never my intention to get pregnant. What happened in that intersection was an accident. All of it was an accident. Every day I wish that I could take it back."

"I am so sorry."

"After I realized what had happened I was so angry. I was so angry at Tony that I didn't ever want to speak to him again. We weren't in a relationship, and I was glad that he didn't come around afterwards."

"You blamed him because he is the one that made you go to New Jersey to see his parents?"

"I didn't want to go. I never wanted to go. He made me feel guilty. He was an only child. It was their first grandchild. What kind of monster would I have been to deny them that joy?"

"Did you ever forgive him?"

"I don't know that I can ever forgive him."

"Have you seen him since the accident?"

"I saw him a few days ago. He's married, and he has two daughters. He moved on, in a way that I haven't been able to. In a way, that I am not entirely certain, I will ever be able to."

"The accident wasn't his fault," Castle points out.

"I know that."

"So why are you so angry at him?"

"He's not the only person that I'm angry at."

"What do you mean?"

"It was my fault that we were on the road that night. We were supposed to stay all weekend. We fought, and I insisted that we go home. If I had just stayed the accident never would have happened."

"It wasn't anyone's fault, Kate. It was an accident."

"I want to believe that. I have tried to believe that, but I just can't."

"Why not?"

"Why did he have to save me? Why did he have to pull me out of that car?"

"Because he cared about you."

"He pulled me out of that car, first without thinking about the consequences. Why? Why didn't he just wait? Why did I have to live?" She sobs.

"Your life means something, Kate. You have made a difference in this world, that is why you lived. That is why you are still here."

"It isn't fair. None of it is fair."

"I know that it seems that way, but things happen for a reason."

She looks at him in disgust, "Don't say that. There is no reason good enough for what happened. He shouldn't have saved me."

"Why not?"

"Do you know the last thing I remember before waking up in the hospital?"

"No," he shakes his head.

"Watching that car ignite. It was completely engulfed in flames in a matter of seconds."

"You could have been in that car. You are lucky to be here."

She clenches her jaw, "Luck has nothing to do with it. It's his fault. He shouldn't have saved me."

"Why not?"

"He shouldn't have picked me. I wish he had left me in that car."

"What good would have come from you being dead?"

"He could have saved him."


	10. Twenty Seven Days

"He could have saved who?"

"Liam."

"Kate I don't understand, how could he save the baby if he didn't save you?"

She locks eyes with him, "We didn't go up there to tell them that I was pregnant. We went to his parents house so that they could meet their grandchild. We made that trip so that they could meet Liam."

His heart sinks, "What do you mean, meet him?"

"Rick, I wasn't pregnant when the accident happened, if that's what you thought."

"Oh," is the only thing he can manage to say.

"My son was in the backseat of that car. I am angry because Tony chose me. He thought my life was more important. If he hadn't saved me maybe Liam would still be alive," she explains.

* * *

_She lies in the grass, near a guard rail. She watches in horror as she sees the look on Tony's face as he realizes that there is nothing he can do. She watches as the flames quickly engulf the entire car. She watches as her car burns with her son still in the backseat. Before she can scream, or cry out her world fades to black. _

* * *

"What are you telling me?" He questions, nearly on the verge of tears himself.

"I had a son. For twenty seven days, I had a son," she sobs uncontrollably.

He says nothing. He leans forward, and snakes his arms around her. He holds her close as she sobs. She buries her head in his shoulder. He holds her, never wanting to let go. Eventually she lets go of him.

"Kate, I had no idea," he admits, solemnly.

"How could you? I am not supposed to remember. I have never told anyone."

"I am so sorry."

"My dad went to my apartment before I got home. He took down every picture. He got rid of the crib, and the changing table. He removed any trace that my son was ever there. He went to my precinct. He told my co-workers what happened. When I went back to work I was still supposed to be on maternity leave. None of them asked, because they were instructed not to. He thought it would be easier if I didn't remember."

"What made you remember?"

"The battery in my watch died. I had put a picture of him inside of it a few days after he was born. I wanted to make sure that when I went back to work that I could still have him close to me."

"Why didn't you ever tell me this?"

"I have never told anyone," she reminds him.

"So why are you telling me now?"

"Because I am going to marry you, you have the right to see all of my baggage, no matter how ugly it is."

"Your dad really thought that you wouldn't remember?"

"I think that he just hoped that I would forget. I think he thought if no one mentioned it maybe I would never remember."

"How could you forget nearly a year of your life?"

She shrugs, "I don't know. I did for a few days, and then I came crashing into a cold, harsh reality."

"I wish I knew what to say to make you feel better."

"There is nothing you can say, or do to make it better. No one can. Nobody can fix what happened. Nothing can bring him back. I can't change what happened, no matter how much I want to. I felt so helpless that night. I realized he was still in the car, and by that point it was in flames. I couldn't do anything to save him," the tears continue to roll down her cheeks, "And when it was over there was nothing left."

He furrows his brow, "What do you mean nothing left?"

"All that was left was ash."

"I am so sorry."

"It doesn't bring him back. Nothing can bring him back."

"You blame Tony?"

"I blame him. I blame myself. It doesn't matter who I blame it never gets better. Nothing I do ever makes it any better," the tears fall from her face, "It never gets any easier."

"No," he agrees, solemnly.

"Not a single day goes by that I don't think about him. Every day I wonder what my life would be like if that accident never happened. I question who he would be now, who he would have become. His birthday was last month, he would have been six. I miss him every single second of every single day," her voice cracks.

"Can I ask what he was like?"

She nods, looking past him. She takes a deep breath, and wipes some of the tears from her face, trying to regain her composure. "He was incredible. He was a beautiful little boy. He was a content baby."

"I never would have guessed that you wanted a child."

"I didn't," she admits, "I didn't know that I wanted a child. It was never a consideration until I found out I was pregnant. To be honest at first I wasn't entirely sure what I wanted to do. I was afraid that having a baby would ruin my career. When I first found out I was so sure that having a child wasn't something that I was interested in."

"What changed?"

* * *

_She takes a seat on his couch, staring at him nervously. He takes a seat in front of her, on the sturdy wooden coffee table. _

_"I just thought that you should know," she explains._

_His lips creep into a smile, "This is great news."_

_She furrows her brow, "It is?"_

_"Yeah," he nods._

_"How?"_

_"We're having a baby."_

_"First of all there is no we. Second of all I am not even sure that I want to keep it."_

_"If you don't want to keep it then why are you even bothering to tell me?"_

_"Because I thought that you had the right to know. I thought that you would want to give your opinion."_

_"I think that you already know how I feel."_

_"I can guess."_

_"Look I am not going to stop you from making whatever decision that you feel is best."_

_"I feel a but coming."_

_"But I think that you should wait."_

_"Wait for what?"_

_"Make a doctor's appointment to confirm the pregnancy. After you have the appointment then you can decide. Don't make a hasty decision."_

_"Okay," she agrees._

* * *

_Days later she sits in an exam room on a cold table. Much to her chagrin Tony sits in a chair, next to her. She wears a paper gown, and prays for the appointment to end rather quickly. The doctor enters the room. He asks questions, which she answers. Moments later she finds herself staring at a monitor. A black and white image appears. Then a sound fills the room. _


End file.
